


The Day of Reckoning

by hanorganaas



Series: The Lost Mockingjay [2]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Rebellion, Revolution, Romance, Victor!AU, off screen character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanorganaas/pseuds/hanorganaas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate canon, Katniss Everdeen the victor of the 74th Hunger Games is no different from the other victors. She did not do the courageous deed of volunteering for her little sister. Her name was pulled of the bowl like every other unlucky tribute, drastically altering the events of her story. Five years later, Katniss is left disenchanted and still mourning the loss of friend, lover and co-tribute Gale Hawthorne, and as victor blindly showing obedience to the Capitol by mentoring tribute after tribute. However, the opportunity to take on the role she was destined for opens again when her sister Prim and Gale's brother Rory are both chosen to represent District 12 in the 79th Hunger Games.....will she succeed or will she fail?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day of Reckoning

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by my experiences playing a victor on an AU Hunger Games board. I personally, if they are reading this want to thank all the people I played with. Each and everyone of your characters inspired in a tiny bit of the characterization of the characters in this story.

_Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean._   
**Maya Angelou**

 

_I’m having this nightmare again. The same constant nightmare I’ve been having for the past five years, never changes. It isn’t a nightmare because there are large and terrifying monsters. This is a nightmare because it actually happened._

_It is the two of us….me and my co tribute, a boy I knew so well standing in the field. The 22 tributes from all other districts are dead, and in a stroke of luck just us two from District 12 remain. We could both just walk out of here back to our poor little district and live normal lives. But the Hunger Games wasn’t like that. It was 24 tributes come in the arena and only one will make it out alive. It didn’t matter the nature of our relationship, it didn’t matter that we were in the same District, one of us….had to die._

_And considering we are two stubborn people who care deeply about each other…the decision was going to be hard._

_“Just do it Catnip,” He says to me looking at me sternly in the eye with not a single inch of fear on his face, I will always admire him for that, “use your arrows, you’ve killed before…..this is no different.”_

_“I can’t,” I reply sharply._

_“It’s either you or me. My family can live without me but your sister needs you.”_

_I want to snap back with a set of words but nothing comes out. It is for one reason and one reason alone…even with outside intervention, I am the only one who can keep my family on their feet. If I were to die here, even with the help and kindness of others, they would not make it on their own. They would lose the will to live and starve. I look into the eyes of my co-tribute letting him know I had made my decision._

_With my arms shaking violently I lift my bow and arrow and point it in the direction towards him…_

My eyes open abruptly as I shoot up in bed. My body is shaking violently from the combination of the cold sweat drenching my nude form and from the terrifying imagery of the nightmare. The sound of my breathing fills the quiet room. Well that and the sound of pencil furiously moving about on paper. I turn my head slightly towards the dim light source in the corner to find Peeta Mellark, my co-mentor, successor and friend with benefits (only a few victors managed to have a real and functional relationship) sitting in the corner of the room sketching away. It was the tell-tell sign Peeta was nervous. 

“Another nightmare sweetheart?” He asks not even lifting his head from the paper.

“You should be asleep,” I say to him sternly.

“It’s the eve of reaping, even after I survived the massacre…” He said pausing. The massacre is what Peeta referred to as the games. “I still can’t sleep.”

I sigh deeply…ever since I won the games, I began to detest reaping days with a firery passion.

“Want to talk about it?” He asks again.

“No,” I respond laying my head back down onto the pillow, “you better not be drawing me again.”

A devious smirk appears upon his face. I lightly chuckle a bit. I have to admit, there are points where he makes me smile even on the shittiest days of the year. 

“See you in the morning pervert,” I respond jokingly.

And with that I close my eyes and try to fall asleep again. But sleep never seems to come.

\---------------------------------------------------

I decide to give up sleeping, though I should have attempted to squeeze a few hours in. As a 5 year tribute mentor, I know Hunger Games season comes with sleepless nights. Sometimes I would lie awake in worry for my tributes. When the games come I eat, sleep and breathe the Hunger Games. 

I tell my tributes every year, seeking victory is unrealistic, but if they make it as far as they can I will still be proud. And my method proved useful, of my 10 tributes (I had an extra four a year after my games due to the quarter quell), 9 made it out of the blood bath (a 13 year old girl in my sister Prim’s class died when a career boy stabbed her and ran), 6 made it at least three days before the feast, 4 made it to the feast, 2 made it to the final 2 and Peeta Mellark…was my sole victory. 

To me, if I am able to help District 12 prove to Panem we are not a weak District, including mentoring one to beat 47 other tributes in the Quarter Quell (my co-mentor Haymitch sat on his ass drinking so I did all the work), then I am a pretty good mentor. 

My status as a mentor isn’t what keeps me up the night before The Reaping. There are two things, one is dreading the inevitable memory triggers brought on by The Reaping itself, two is my sister Prim has two more Reapings until she is free from danger. Though her chances are slim for being picked, she has 7 chances of being picked. District 12, as unfortunate as it is, is a poor District. Hundreds of kids get tesseraes for extra grain. 7 out of hundreds of other names….she will be fine.

But still I worry about her. It would be abnormal if I didn’t. As I sit up in bed and stretch I remember how worry I was Prim’s first year in The Reaping lotto. I cannot help but snort at the heavy irony. I worked myself up believing Prim wouldn’t be so lucky and some weird twist of her fate…that the one piece of paper that had Prim’s name on it would be called out only to have it be mine. Then I remember the events that transpired…and the irony is no longer that hilarious. 

I make a deep groan and pick up my discarded robe from the floor. As I wrap it around my naked body I catch a glimpse of Peeta slumped over with the sketchbook laying flat over his naked. He fell asleep on that armchair as he did one of his many nude drawings of me. It is somewhat of an adorable sight. So I chuckle. 

On reaping mornings I used to wake up early in the morning and go out on a hunt with Gale. But now I find it too painful. I tried I really did but I never had the courage to go past the meadow. We scattered Gale’s ashes there. The moment my feet would touch the ground….my mind replays that morning…our last hunt together. We were both so happy…if only we knew.

I had to find something new. Something that wouldn’t bring back haunting memories, I picked a strange one…swimming. 

During my games we were given the option to learn how to swim, since the skill was only learned by the children of District Four. It would be impossible for them not after all….they are a fishing District. They eat, drink and breathe water. But when this option was given to me….I opted out. Till the end Gale and I were attached at the hip, the two of us were more focused on the stations having to do with hunting.

I learned to swim my first year of mentoring. That year was the Quarter Quell, when Peeta won. That year was just as painful to me as the year before. They had about four victor parties a year in the Capitol. Each theme was stranger than the next. That year was a pool party. By then I had my new circle of friends which included Melody Laramee and Kavan Starr) from Six, Oliver Ridley and Johanna Mason from Seven, Hannah “Foxface” Linden from Five, Thresh Johnston from Eleven and the oldest of the group the Odairs, Finnick and Annie who was still Annie Cresta aka the famous victor couple from District Four. Later little Rue McCord from District Eleven would join us just like Melody’s sister Samara will join us this year. Out of the nine of us at the time I was the only one who opted out learning to swim during training. Both Annie and Finnick were kind enough to teach me just in time for the party.

Not only was I fast learner, I started to love it.

Even now as I jump in the water my indoor pool in my new victor home, letting the cold water engulf me I feel a sense of calm and belonging. It is the same safety and belonging I used to feel in the woods with Gale before he died. As I swim back and forth letting my head come out of the water once in a while to breathe. I clear my head. I throw out all my old strategies as a mentor that had failed me the year before and leave my head a clean slate for my next two charges.

I go back and forth about twenty times before lifting my head out of the water. Prim is sitting on the side of the pool dipping her feet in pool. She is dressed in my old hunting clothes. If she didn’t have the blonde hair I would mistake her for myself.

Swimming to the side I cannot help but remember how much of a far cry my little sister was at the time of my reaping to now. She was no longer a child but a woman. She is so close to surviving her reaping years and to enter a world of great promise. A lot of things had changed for us. It was a hard time for me. I wanted to be alone. For two months after my victory I stayed inside, isolated from the world, separated from my family. I didn’t want them to see me like this, a miserable and depressed monster, especially Prim who always saw me as strong. 

So I locked myself in the safety in my victor home, shutting the world out and only letting Peeta in. During my period of my Games and my depression she had learned to hunt and take care of herself and mom during her last days. Mom had shut down again, she felt guilty. She felt the same guilt I did when Gale died. She committed suicide with a note apologizing to Hazelle Hawthorne for her son’s death.

I woke up. I had to for my sister. Prim and I were orphans and I couldn’t leave her alone. The day she moved in was one of the best days of my victor life. It was not only the day I began to heal….it was the day I met the new Primrose Everdeen for the first time. I could already tell the moment she walked through the door. Her hair was shorter up to her shoulders and I couldn’t help but smile. She was turning into…me, she even began sneaking out and hunting almost every morning after teaching herself how to use a bow. Occasionally…if I gained the strength, I would go with her. But those times became less frequent as I continued to mourn.

She knows how proud of her I tell her every day.

I could tell she had just returned from a hunt. She was dressed in my hunting clothes. Her boots and the money she had made from the Hob selling her game and Lady’s milk discarded at her side. We really didn’t have to trade at the Hob anymore since we were rich, but hell, I even go there from time to time. We enjoy ourselves there. I won’t let that take that from me either.

“Catch anything good?” I ask resting my arms on the ledge.

“A rabbit,” She said dipping her feet into the water, “Greasy Sae says hi…Rory’s here.”

I feel my face tense. Rory is Gale’s younger brother. He’s Prim’s age. The Hawthornes tried to embrace me, even Hazelle, Gale’s mother, but I tried to my best to avoid the family. I don’t know why they even were kind to me. I’m responsible for their son’s and brother’s death. 

I’m mad at her for bringing yet another reminder of Gale into our home. But I bite my tongue. Prim enjoys his company, so I cannot say anything. I just pull myself out of the pool and reach for my robe. I wrap it and walk away.

“Katniss,” Prim says.

“You should get ready for the reaping,” I said.

I make my way indoors. I feel my eyes watering with tears. This always happens when I think of Gale. I break down. I move quickly throughout the house. I know Rory is sitting in there somewhere. Even if he spots me I will be gone. 

“Katniss,” I hear a voice say stopping me dead in my tracks. It sounds almost too familiar. I turn to face the voice. For a second I think it’s Gale staring back at me. But the reality is it isn’t. Gale would have called me Catnip. It was Rory. But god…he looks so much like his older brother it’s terrifying. He even has his smile. Reasonable people would have said to take the spitting image of their dead loved one for what it is. I am not a reasonable person…I’m a victor.

I don’t respond….I just keep walking.

\---------------------------------------------------

Prim’s no longer a child, but I still feel the need to hold her hand on the way to the reaping. She doesn’t complain. She knows that holding her hand is my own way of comforting myself.

Peeta is on my other side walking quietly. He doesn’t say a word. He never talks during the actual reaping I used to think he was in mourning for the two poor souls that would be led to slaughter. But he told me he didn’t speak during the reaping because he felt too damn numb. 

When we reach the registration table I am almost reluctant to let go of Prim hand. But then I remember…7 out of thousands of pieces of paper of children who had the misfortune of having to take out a tessarre. She’ll be fine. I give her a nod and continue to walk to the stage. At the steps we are greeted by Haymitch the other victor of District 12, Peeta gives him a nod but I say nothing. I believe Haymitch understandably hates me. He was Gale’s and my mentor during our Hunger Games. On the day Gale died and I saw him in the control room after that week of hell I attacked him blaming him for Gale’s death. Peeta tells me my belief is ridiculous, especially since Haymitch reaches out to me often.

I needed someone to take the blame off myself. Blaming my mentor was just convenient. Also standing in the area is Effie who is being mentally undressed by Haymitch. I can tell by the predatory look in his eyes. How could he not, after all, he and Effie are the most unexpected pair to brace The Capitol. And Mayor Undersee stands there too. He is burning a hole into Peeta and I with his dark gaze. Three years ago one of his daughters and a good friend of mine, Madge, was reaped and died in the Hunger Games. He blames me for her death.

It wasn’t my fault. Madge could have won the Hunger Games that year and for the third year in a row District 12 would have had a victor. Hell she was in the top two. But she sacrificed herself to the mutts so Rue could live. I admire her for that, especially since Rue thanks her by being strong and not as fucked up as the rest of us victors. I wish Mayor Undersee could see the way I did, that she died a hero. But then again I can’t even handle losing a friend to the games. I don’t want to imagine being a parent and losing a child to the games. It must be horrible.

Finally we make our way to the stage. Haymitch, Peeta and I take our seats in the victor section.

The ceremony begins. At this point I don’t pay attention. I memorized the ceremony and the speech on why the Hunger Games were put in place by heart. I just use this moment to socialize and distract myself from bad memories.

“Did I ever tell you guys how great it is I don’t have to sit alone through this thing alone anymore?” Haymitch says. He is a far cry from the man I met. He is no longer drunk and slurring his words. Effie’s relationship with him lessened his need to drink. I am much more in favor of this sober Haymitch…he’s calmer.

“Every year,” Peeta says with a smile, he takes my hand in my own. I don’t pull away. Like I hold Prim’s hand for comfort on the way to the reaping, he holds my hand to get rid of his bad memories.

“I still don’t get your relationship; you two say you aren’t dating, and yet you two are too hanky panky to be friends.”

I sigh. Haymitch of all people should know it’s not that easy.

“The time has come to select our two tributes,” Effie says to the crowd, “again as usual….ladies first.”

Suddenly my attention is on the reaping. My hand grips onto Peeta’s tightly. I am always nervous when the girl’s name is drawn. I always fear it will be my sister.

7 times, 7 times. I repeat in my head like a mantra as Effie dips her hand into the glass bowl. I hold my breath as she raises the sheet of paper in the air for the children to see. It is quiet now. Not a single word is spoken as he slowly unfolds the piece of paper.

_7 times, 7 times, it is not going to be-_

“PRIMROSE EVERDEEN!” Effie says to the crowd.

Suddenly my world is crashing down again, breaking piece by piece as I rise abruptly to my feet. I have done this one before, when Peeta was reaped four years ago. I don’t want to believe it. It is a mistake. It has to be a mistake. No there is no mistakes in the Capitol. I see Prim, she is standing tall and brave as she walks behind the four peacekeepers that surround her. 

Five year ago she would have been in tears. 

As she walks onto the stage Peeta and Haymitch are at my side holding me so my knees don’t give out from under me. My eyes are blinking fighting to hold back the tears. Before my sister takes her spot on the stage she gives me one last look, telling me to be strong for her, but I can’t. Not after the fact the third person I loved or cared for is going to the games. The odds can shift either way, I can be lucky and she can come home like Peeta or 2 weeks from now I will be mourning her death as I did with Gale.

Suddenly a blaze of hope rushes through me that someone would volunteer. But then I remember, no one volunteers to be led to death. 

“Don’t worry Katniss,” Peeta says to me as he rubs my arm lovingly “she is strong like you, she can win this!”

Effie now dips her hand into the reaping bowl to reveal the name of the unlucky boy who will be going to be going with my sister, my poor little sister to the Hunger Games. I am trying to stay on my feet keeping my eyes on Prim. How can I have the strength to do this? How can I mentor my sister through the same horrors I went through five years ago?

My mind is spinning in hundreds of different directions as Effie pulls the name out of the bowl and unfolds the piece of paper. The next name is just as bad as the first…..

“RORY HAWTHORNE!”


End file.
